Finding Center
by atlonglastlove
Summary: Regina and Emma (in all her unintentional manliness)aboard the Jolly Roger. What comes after you save the world together, when your son is missing, when you've been pushing away that one person you need? Written in thanks. I promised myself I'd offer something new when Need hit 100 favorites. So here we go! Thanks so much for reading! I love you all. Enjoy. (Rating adjusted.)
1. Chapter 1

Emma felt the salty sting of the sea air as she warily made her way along in the dark.

The port side of the Jolly Roger seemed empty, everyone gone below for the night. With no horizon to fix her eyes upon, she was far from certain she'd finish this part of the voyage upright.

Her grip on the wooden rail grew too tight and she felt her stomach somersault. Again.

_Fucking boats._

She stopped and allowed herself a deep, deep breath. She let her knees unlock and tried just listening to the waves lap at the sides. It could be peaceful here. Perhaps.

Another sound, though, entered, and Emma's stomach tumbled again, for completely different reasons. Someone ahead, there in the dark, was crying. Quietly. And the throaty shudder between sobs made the identity clear.

Regina.

Emma pulled herself further forward and peered into the darkness, trying not to startle, and not sure if she should approach at all. Again, for the second time in less than 12 hours, she was bearing witness to the unexpected vulnerability of the strongest woman she'd ever met. The unflappable Evil Queen.

'_let me die as Regina.' _

Those five words still rang in Emma's head, and she had to shake them from her mind, as she finally spotted Regina at the bow. Regina wasn't dead. She was just before her. Right there.

The moon glinted off coal dark hair, else Emma might not have seen her at all. Still clothed in black, now folded over and into herself. Emma was close enough to see Regina's shoulders move, in anguish, from the cold. Both.

Emma let her foot drag a bit, announcing her presence, as she called out a quiet, "Regina?"

She didn't turn, but her head lifted, quickly, and her hands jumped to her face to compose herself, no doubt. "Emma." She said, after a moment. "Go back inside." Her voice was rough, exhausted. " It's cold."

Emma stood and stared at the back of the woman she'd hated, despised even. She'd respected her, protected, and been mystified by Regina. She'd wanted to kill her for endangering Henry. She'd wanted to hold her for bringing her and Mary Margaret home. She'd wanted to love her for her sacrifice. But she never did. She did none of it – good or bad – none of those sky-high responses that Regina seemed to invoke in her did she completely express. She was afraid of them. She stood in her own way. Regina stood in her way. Everyone stood in their way.

Emma saw the path ahead. Clear. Unobstructed. Nothing between she and Regina but six feet of weathered planks. She felt her boots step forward.

Regina didn't pull away as Emma's arms wrapped around her from behind.

"Turn around." Emma spoke softly, close at her ear, evoking from Regina a slight, extra shiver. There was a pause as Regina seemed to consider the instruction. And then she turned.

Regina brought her arms around Emma, burrowing herself into the offered warmth.

"We'll find him. He'll be okay. You'll see."

Emma felt the small nod at her shoulder. She held Regina to her. She felt her own heart racing, and then slowing, a bit. Grateful. She felt her two feet beneath her, strong. Felt Regina,filling in the empty parts, making her balanced. Whole. She felt, for the first time since beginning this journey, steady. The boat rolled.

Emma closed her eyes and breathed in, out.

Regina. Regina.


	2. Chapter 2

How long they'd stood there, Emma couldn't say. All sense of time, place, even their circumstance fled, as Regina remained tucked within her arms.

Emma held the slight body close, as close as she'd ever held anyone, as close as long lovers, almost too close to be proper. She marveled at how Regina fit, completely, within her grasp. She was utterly encompassed. Regina was tiny, she realized with a bit of shock. Who knew this formidable woman was actually so very small?

And her scent. The smell of Regina- spicy and sharp with a deeply layered warmth, was, Emma quickly recognized, intoxicating. It was a scent Emma found that she hoped very much would linger once this latest chapter of madness had rolled back beneath the waves.

But. This was no single moment. It wasn't brief. After Emma had finally ushered the surprise of the moment through her, once she let it simply _be_, the moment became two, then more then many. When the bite of the ocean wind stirred, bringing with it a stinging cold, the two simply moved closer. Closer. However one moved, the other answered, shifting to reassemble their bodies back together. To say it was unprecedented, unexpected? Maybe. But, that was before. Before the mine, before the magic, before.

Now. This was something new. Something… learned. Allowed. Supported by their shared pasts, their son, and the magic that sung along their skin, their breath. Regina exhaled, soft puffs of air that just found Emma's neck through all the clothing. Emma's lips, touching Regina's hair, her head with the lightest caress. Her lips moved, meditatively, 'it's okay. it's okay. shhhh…' again, and quiet, and again.

Regina had been trembling when Emma had first wrapped her up, and the trembling had decreased markedly, but still remained. Emma had thought it was the cold, but after mere seconds, their bodies were generating far too much heat for either to be cold.

'What? What is it?' Emma's voice was low, gliding over the pitch dark of Regina's hair, tumbling into the perfectly-shaped ear she'd uncovered with a tuck. 'Please, please, sweetheart. Let me see you.' Emma moved herself off, to make just enough space to peer into Regina's eyes. She felt a small pull of resistance, tugging her back again, before Regina relaxed, too. Her head hung between them, as the two continued to stand within the embrace. Emma briefly wondered why it was that she felt the very world might end if they stepped apart.

And then she realized that she'd just called Regina 'sweetheart' and thought her world might end anyway.

'I was' Regina began, and her head lifted enough for Emma to see the wetness on her cheeks, drying quickly now, exposed to the wind. 'I was so certain.'

'In the mines?' Emma asked, though she knew already that she understood Regina's meaning. Regina's chin rose another fraction, and she looked to the side of them both, seeming to stare out over the water.

'I was finished, you realize?' Regina posed it as a question, though she knew already that Emma understood her meaning. 'I'd lost. Everyone. Failed. Henry.' And Emma also knew not to try to correct her. 'But, I was sure I could do that one thing. I could fix it. Stop it. Finally. Save everyone I'd cursed. Even your _mother_.' Regina ground out the word, and raised her head higher. Emma saw a skittish ripple of bruised and angry defiance race through Regina's gaze. 'But I couldn't even manage that, and then Henry…"

A wracking sob and another tremor moved through Regina's body. She wasn't merely sad, or cold. She was terrified.

As Emma pulled the woman back to her, she realized, she never, ever wanted to let her go.

'Oh god, Emma, I don't know where he IS in Neverland! Don't you see?' Regina was starting to panic. 'If he's where I think...'

'I'm going to say this once, so listen up, okay?' Emma didn't wait for a reply. 'Henry is fine. I can feel it.' Regina looked at her then, eyes reddened, alarmed. 'You can, too, just let it in. Please.' Emma stripped off her left glove, removed Regina's right, and let their fingers weave together, hands clasped. 'See? Am I right?'

Suddenly, the air around them beat with Henry's heart, their two minds called out to him and he replied without fear or pain.

It was with a radiant smile that Regina finally answered her, and Emma replied in kind.

'I am.' Emma let her pride show through. 'We're good. Just stick with me, ma'am.'

Regina gazed into Emma's bright eyes, searching out any trepidation. Finding nothing but surety, she moved her glance down their arms, to their clenched hands, their continued embrace.

'Why, Sheriff, I do believe you need a free hand, and a hat to tip.' Regina said with, was that the sparest wink playing on her eyelashes?

Emma felt a blush rise and she found herself grateful for the dark.

'Yes ma'am.'

'When we get home then.' Regina promised. She moved her still gloved hand up Emma's arm with a caress that felt like memorizing, cataloguing, before she extracted herself completely from the shelter of Emma.

'When we get home.' Emma said, mostly to Regina's back. Watching her go, Emma was startled by the smack of the sail, the rushing of a familiar imbalance creeping once more into her limbs.

Regina turned at the heavy door that would lead them both below and with a whisper, she husked, 'Thank you.' Off Emma's nod, she continued, 'Have a good night.' There was a thick pause, before Regina added, 'Sweetheart.' And the door closed on her wry smile.


	3. Chapter 3

Whatever Emma thought a magic trip guided by a magic globe through a magic portal created by a magic bean on a magic ship to a land filled with magic might be like… well, let's say this didn't live up to the hype. Not unlike her recent trip into Fairytale Land, nothing so far had been as she expected. After everyone strutting about with their deactivating triggers, their spells and their puffs of smokes, was it really too much to ask for magic to just _work_?

She thought they'd appear smack in the middle of Neverland once they'd navigated past the swirling portal waters, but the whole thing turned out to be not only anticlimactic, it bordered on dull. The ship dipped and fell into the waters only to wind up in more. Water. Everywhere. In every direction. And not a stitch of land any way she turned.

Emma's stomach growled as her first thought was of food and the lack thereof on Hook's boat. She'd seen no evidence of food, or really of anything else on the ship when they boarded. No crew but themselves, no barrels of fresh water, nothing. She figured magic might be required for their sustenance, and briefly wondered if magic food was as satisfying as the real deal. Either way, a decent ham sandwich seemed likely to be a wish unfulfilled.

And then, they floated. And floated. And they kept floating the rest of that day and Charming and Mary Margaret yammered on about finding Henry, as though that wasn't on _everyone's_ agenda. Emma caught Hook practicing new ways to raise one eyebrow while staring into his shiny appendage, and Gold kept looking on the edge of actually exploding into little shiny bits. Whatever he had thought this little voyage of theirs might be like, Emma sensed he was instead feeling a whole lot of disappointed as he stared into the magic globe, which was maybe on the fritz. And Gold disappointed wasn't like a normal person. It did however closely resemble the mood of hungry ogres and angry giants and all the other unhappy beings Emma had encountered in Fairytale Land. The whole setup seemed less than ideal. As a result, Emma kept one eye on Gold as a matter of course.

For her part, Emma found herself feeling oddly confident. Basically? She was ready. Whatever happened. She'd slay another dragon, burn out a wraith, or fuckin' throw down with flying monkeys if she had to in order to get Henry back.

She wasn't entirely sure what had led her to direct her own magical energy and try to open her heart to Henry, but the moment she had, she'd known everything was fine. She'd reach him. Save him. Whatever. She wasn't worried.

She just had to get there.

And then there was Regina. From the moment they slipped through the portal onto this endless, endless sea, Regina has been quiet and introspective. She spoke only when compelled to answer a question. She eyed everyone with a pinch of distrust and a smattering of disgust, but Emma recognized the infinitesimal peek of insecurity that underscored it all. Emma watched her from afar—as she often did—and thought how it all might be from Regina's perspective. Curious. Unfamiliar. Her mother was dead by her own hand. Old enemies were at her side. New enemies waited ahead. And Regina herself had agreed to the 'team' approach for the benefit of Henry. Surely, with her mother and her son gone, Regina's worst fears were coming true. After all, the world Regina had created—a whole world, for fuck's sake—had been turned utterly upside down.

And all because of Emma.

After that first night aboard, when Emma thought herself alone on the deck one moment, and with Regina willingly nestled against her in the next, something had shifted between them. Changed profoundly. Regina'd gone below that night, with a practically flirtatious tone, an almost come-hither look and Emma had stood on that deck a long time, thinking about _that_. Emma'd also thought a lot about why the boat and its incessant rocking hadn't mattered to her one iota when she was with Regina, and she wanted to test a theory that she'd begun brewing almost more than she wanted to get off the damn boat.

In the morning, even though Regina was exactly like everyone expected her to be, she wasn't the same with Emma. And Emma recognized she didn't feel the same about Regina either. No, that thing between them, that thing that made them both treat each other differently than they treated anyone else, that thing that had always inserted a kind of pause—be it defiant, challenging, or generous—into their interactions, had become amplified, and now, it started to show up in the most interesting situations...

/

Hook slithered up to Regina in the ships mess where she and Emma were trying to fashion some kind of meal from 3 parts magic and 1 part hope. He gazed at her, and opened his mouth to speak.

'Leer at me like that again, Hook, and I'll seal your eyelids shut.' Regina was unhappy.

'Dude. Trust me. It's not a way to a woman's heart, but it could land you in the hold.' Emma had inserted, backing Regina up. 'With sealed eyelids.' She added. 'Which would suck.'

Hook blinked and slithered off.

Regina turned to her and tilted her head in the way she did that made Emma swallow loudly.

'What?' Emma asked.

Regina said, 'You know the way to a woman's heart, do you, Sheriff?'

"I…" Emma couldn't manage another syllable because Regina was looking at her. Breathing air. Nearby.

'Hmmn.' Was all Regina said before turning back to the task of trying to make pot roast out of an actual pot.

/

Gold had the magic globe in his hands and was shaking it, like one might a light bulb to see—and ensure—it was really, truly never going to light again. The dull red smear that had been guiding them, had been fading since the beginning of the trip, and now appeared too ambiguous to be useful.

'YOU are interfering with my globe, Princess.' Gold snapped at Emma as she innocently walked past, in search of a mop. 'Shut down your amateur-hour magic or I'll shut it down for you.' He snarled

'Fuck you, Gold. I'm not doing shit to your broken ass globe.' Was Emma's nearly articulate response. Before she could actually flip him off, Emma found herself suspended upside down, and on the wrong side of the railing.

In a blink of an unsealed eyelid, though, their positions were reversed. And not only was Gold now hanging out over the blisteringly cold water, he was wearing an outfit right out of the 1500s.

'Easy, Magellen.' Regina cautioned as she strode next to Emma, who was now comfortably settled into a recently materialized armchair. 'If you scare little old me with your anger, I might drop you.' At the word '_drop_,' Regina hurled Gold's body down, until the ends of his individual split ends grazed along the top of the water.

He squealed.

Regina sent his body up and flying to the back of the boat with a toss of her hand, gave Emma a kind smile and walked back to the stern without another word.

/

For the third time that day, Emma sweated under the weight of the beam. Together, she and Charming were trying to place the boom, an impossibly heavy span of wood that balanced the entire mainsail, back inside its grooved slot. The entire mechanism had repeatedly and inexplicably come flying out of its confines, leaving the vast sail flapping and useless in the wind, and the towering mast threatening to topple.

Each time anyone had tried to make the repair using magic, the beam just landed farther away as though the ship itself was thumbing its nose at their efforts.

Emma had suggested ditching the magic, and the manual approach had nearly succeeded but Charming was a bit less… able… than his daughter.

'Jesus fucking CHRIST, Davi…DAD, just get under the damn thing!' Emma had her end perfectly positioned and swore a blue streak at her father to do the same, but it didn't appear to be helping.

After another ten minutes, when they finally had maneuvered the sail and all of its parts back in place, Emma took herself aside, breathing hard, recovering from the effort.

Emma caught the unmistakable scent before Regina had rounded the corner. The Mayor carried a tin cup filled with water.

'That looked to be rather… difficult.' Regina held out the water. Emma eyed the cup, thirsty, but her noodle arms weren't cooperating.

Emma just laughed at herself, unable even to reach for a damn cup. 'It was.' She smiled wide, the exertion perhaps having left too little oxygen in her brain.

Regina stepped closer, filling Emma's senses. She raised her thumb to Emma's lips, swept it over the top one and wiped off the moisture there. Anchoring that same hand with one hand on Emma's sweat-covered bicep, Regina lifted the cup to Emma's parted lips.

'Drink.'

At that moment, had Emma to choose between continuing to look into Regina's fathomless gaze, or to be rewarded with all the riches of this and every other land, she'd still be living out of her car. And she'd be happy.

Emma drank and drained the cup. Regina looked at it. Empty. Looked back at Emma with the impossible heat of her gaze.

'More?' she asked and Emma felt herself take a step closer. She needed something from Regina. It wasn't water.

Regina took a sharp, short breath. Held it.

Emma looked quickly to Regina's hand, which had moved up her bicep, around, and was now resting on Emma's shoulder blade, urging her forward, though, clearly, no urging was required.

'I think I'm gonna say… Always.' Emma managed. And Regina blushed and Emma smiled a half, smirk of a smile, and the morning clouds parted, and the ship stopped rocking, as Emma took a last step closer.

'EMMA!' Mary Margaret bellowed, breaking the mood and nearly breaking her child's heart.

'What?' Emma barked, dripping with impatience. Her eyes were locked with Regina's, but she felt the woman pulling away. 'Wait.' Emma said to her, heard the quiet yearning in her own voice. She tried to hold onto Regina's hand, to fingers that were slipping from her grasp.

'Your dad's back is hurt. Can you carry him below?' Mary Margaret whistled out. She'd picked up a weird cold on deck and it made her nose whistle.

And before Emma could stop it, Regina was gone again, the tin cup dangling from her pinky.

tbc


	4. Chapter 4

"I wasn't anywhere near the guy!" Emma protested mightily, there above it all.

In point of fact, no one was anywhere near Hook when it happened. Some were at the bow, one to port, one to starboard, and Emma had been hanging 15 feet up, legs hooked round the mast, arms full of sail, re-hoisting the rigging for the tenth time that day (by herself of course, apart from Regina below, who was holding the guide rope keeping Emma level).

There had been a loud "Ack!" and an "Oof!' and a clatter and every head turned to stern when Hook came tumbling to the ground. His stubble neatly sanded the deck boards as he skidded to a halt, both his feet bound tightly within an exceptionally well-knotted length of rope. Adding insult to accident, Hook's _hook_ had apparently come undone, rolling aggressively, in a kind of ass over tea-kettle way, across the deck, before landing on it's side and rocking awkwardly back and forth with the movement of the ship.

David/James clearly didn't believe his sometimes impulsive daughter. After a week on board, it was clear even to Charming, that Emma was no fan of the Captain. He strained as he looked up at her, his furrowed brow telegraphing doubt. The whole thing was giving him headaches, frankly, what with all the squinting and menacing gazing he'd had to keep shooting at Hook in the hopes of sparing Emma at least the man's seemingly endless parade of distasteful comments. He _wanted_ to punch him in the face again, because that had felt useful, and rather nice, but Charming hadn't actually brought the Captain to the floor either.

Hook barked, "Who put that rope there?" He tried to right himself.

"You did, Einstein." Emma said from high above, getting back to work.

"You can't seriously expect these honest people to believe…" the clumsy Captain began.

"Right after you put all those fancy little knots in it," continued Emma, "and crowed something up at me about talented fingers, bobbing on a knob, and being careful not to chafe."

"Sounds familiar." Regina spoke quietly, to no one in particular, but Emma heard her.

"Really?" Hook's hearty rejoinder began. "Well, you certainly see a lot from your perch, pretty Polly." He yanked at his pants. "Can you see down my trousers, eh? There's a big fat liars sausage for y…"

He stopped talking most probably because of the enormous weight of ropes and pulleys that landed on top of him.

"Sorry about that." Emma called down innocently. "Do continue." She made a show of leaning over, of listening, but there was nothing but silence.

"Shame. Such a nice story." Regina said, this time a bit louder and the smile she shot up to Emma made the poor Sheriff nearly lose her balance.

Hook signaled his continued existence by groaning anew. When no one else moved immediately to help him, Snow released a deep sigh, went up to Hook and poked him with her boot as she pulled the rigging from him.

"Hook? You awake?" She asked.

The only sound was the wind finding the now perfectly functioning sail, and the unnerving wobble of Hook's prosthetic across the wood, much too far from its host limb.

"Maybe someone should take him below?" Snow wondered.

"Who steers the ship then, dearie?" Rumplestiltskin asked, as he admired his fingernails, while sitting, legs-crossed, atop a barrel. Since he'd not lifted a literal finger since their departure but to scowl at his dim globe, his nails were pristine, long, and—Emma's noticed—had taken on a greenish glint.

"I will." Emma said as she jumped down the last several feet to the deck. She moved to Regina, meeting her eyes, and gently taking the guide rope from the woman's hands. Emma smiled softly. "Thanks for looking out for me down here."

Regina nodded and returned a soft, wordless grin. Such a simple thing, a grin. Yet, there was nothing really simple about it, Emma thought. Merely standing in Regina's presence was regularly filling her with peace and focus. What to make of it all?

Emma chewed on her lip, and grudgingly turned her attention to Rumplestiltskin. She pointed at the prone figure of Hook. "This idiot moved this ship while otherwise completely useless. I think we'll be fine." She strode to the wheel and hefted the offending pile of knots overboard. Turning back to Rumplestiltskin, she continued, "You get your funky, bloody, globe thingy to show me where I'm supposed to go, and maybe we'll actually get there." She looked back at all the faces studying her. "Okay?"

Emma had been at the wheel for the better part of 4 hours, trying her very best to ignore the insidious knock of nausea that seemed always to be just a breath from overtaking her. She hated the weakness it hinted at, but was determined not to be undone.

Determination, though, didn't stop the swell of relief she felt when Regina appeared, moving toward her with a smile.

"Thought you could use a break." Regina said, gesturing for Emma to relinquish her duty for a time. Emma ensured their fingers met as Regina took the wheel. The feel of that tiny gesture had sparked through Emma, moved her, and she was sure she felt Regina twitch slightly in response.

"Can I give you a lesson? Do you need one?" Emma asked, hoping Regina would require some direction she could offer. "Probably not." Emma groused, as Regina settled in with just a nod.

"Okay. Well. Thanks a lot." Emma sighed and looked for a place to sit.

"What?" Regina asked, watching her closely.

"Nothing." Emma blushed. "Stupid."

Regina just nodded and shifted her gaze and began to steer in earnest. "This does have more heft than I realized." She noted, marveling at the wheel. "You managing okay out here? Truly?" Concern from Regina was so unexpected, so overwhelming. _This_ Regina gave herself over completely to expressing reassurance, and Emma felt nearly consumed by a wave of comfort and care.

Emma thought of those moments she'd witnessed, moments between Regina and Henry. Moments of love. Emma realized that they had been filled with this very feeling – this feeling _she_ now felt.

This. Feeling.

In that single heartbeat, Emma realized that the depth of care Regina feels for her son, for _their_ son, must certainly have met, or even surpassed the depth of rage that had led Regina to her crimes. That the often infuriating, always fascinating woman gave everything she had to _everything_ she did. Regina—_real_ Regina, stripped of pretense or agenda—did not suffer fools, mince words, give or take lightly. She was a woman who lived in the outer edges, the extremes. Emma also understood that since the magic in the mine, she'd been getting her first, long, unedited glimpse at the real Regina, and however fascinating the Mayor may have seemed before, it didn't hold a candle to the woman before her.

They'd been mostly silent for a long time, Emma sitting on a step nearby, watching Regina who quietly peered into the sea ahead. It had been… companionable. Welcomed. Easy.

And charged. Emma didn't want it to end. She wanted Regina with her. Wanted her to stay. It was more than just the sense of having her 'sea-legs' whenever Regina appeared. Much more. And she knew with certainty that she'd feel dreadful if Regina left, but she couldn't insist she stay, either. It was cold, and boring… and lonely up here.

"Any word from the Admiral of the Regrettable Come-ons?" Emma asked.

"No." Regina said through a smile. "They revived him, but thereafter he snarled a bit and promptly fell sound asleep. Apparently he was rather more tired than he let on."

"You suggesting even sexist asshole pirates need rest, too?"

Regina pursed her lips and said nothing. Emma saw her shift uncomfortably in her heeled boots. She stood and stretched and banged out a few pushups before stepping beside Regina with a mimed tip of her hat.

"I've got this now." Emma couldn't stop the stupid big grin on her face. "Come relieve me in a few more hours?"

Regina relinquished the wheel rather reluctantly. And rather slowly. Allowing for the two of them to coexist in space an unnecessarily long while.

"Bring some new magic shoes, next time, that won't hurt to stand in?" Emma asked, trying not to sound judgy, and hoping that even the impeccably dressed could adjust under certain circumstances.

"I'll see what I can whip up." Regina replied and moved to go below.

"Fuck." Emma said to herself, deciding not to care if she sounded weak. If Regina could lay it all out there, so could she. "Hey! Um… before you go?" She began. Regina turned back. "Could I? I… I'm sorry to ask, but I'm a bit shaky."

"What is it, Mis… Emma? What?" There she was again, present, patient, listening. Ready.

"You need to go below." Emma stated, brooking no argument, "but I, um, was wondering, if, uh, you wouldn't mind…?"

Regina stepped closer, seeing the unmasked anxiety and uncertainty in Emma, "I admit you're quite adorable when flustered, Miss Swan," Emma's eyebrows rose and Regina laughed. It was a delightful sound that carried off across lucky waves. "but," and she articulated each word slowly, "What. Are. You. Trying. To. Say?"

"Ifeelmostgroundedonthisrockinghunkofoakwhenyouare standingnexttomesocouldyouleavemesomethingofyoursb eforeyougo?" Emma quirked a pained, half-smile.

Regina's smile turned serious as Emma watched her let those words inside. The dark eyes furrowed a moment, before they grew bright with understanding.

"Maybe this will help?" Regina reached behind her own neck and began to remove her necklace.

"Reminds me of Storybrooke. Of Henry." She moved behind Emma, standing too close, arcing the intense energy that hums between them. Regina's fingers travel through and under Emma's hair, moving it slowly aside. She steps up to place the jewelry around Emma's neck, and they both tense slightly.

Regina, predictably, makes the first bold move, letting her soft lips touch the skin she sees below Emma's jaw. Everything in Emma's world spins, tilts, and the roll of the ship is nothing compared to this. Nothing. Emma is overwhelmed by the intimate touch, by the nearness of this woman who has come to mean something entirely different from all that she meant before.

As Regina retreats, the necklace hanging now upon Emma's neck, all of that tilting and diving, all that imbalance shifts right again.

Emma peers down at the necklace as she inspects it through touch and sight.

The apple tree of Storybrooke is surrounded by a circle.

Regina sets her hands briefly on Emma's shoulders, and makes no move to depart.

"Regina, are you sure?'

"I am." Regina says quietly at her ear, soft breath caressing, and making Emma's left side jump with sensation.

And then she is gone.

The golden apple tree rests against Emma's body, warmed by her heat, bouncing imperceptibly to the heart that pounds with longing for a presence no longer before her.

Without Emma realizing, as she stares to the horizon and tries not to move too much, lest the lingering sensation of Regina's lips upon her neck disappears, the intricately crafted pendant with its thin lines and delicate form transforms... into a simple, brass ring.


	5. Chapter 5

Emma anticipated Regina's return to the top deck, her mind replaying their recent encounters, body still pulsing from that sweet touch of Regina's lips on her delicate skin. The quaking shudder.

A gentle buzz of need had settled in Emma's gut and hummed in her veins, making her want very much to know what more of Regina's touch would feel like. But now wasn't the time, really. She shook her head, tried to clear her mind and concentrate on the importance task now in _her_ hands.

The ship, the sea, were eerily quiet that night. Emma admitted to herself that this was probably a good thing, given her inexperience – Trouble with that was - soon, she was once again lost in thought.

She thought about being with Regina in the mine, about leaving her there, when she had known what it meant to do so. She'd swallowed the bitter taste of grief that swam up from her belly and in to her mouth and marched out of the mines ramrod straight to keep herself on task, to make sure everything that needed to happen did so. If Regina was going to sacrifice herself to save them all, Emma was gonna make damn sure nothing kept them from being saved. She thought about Snow and David wanting to go back down to open a portal and toss in the diamond, and about the war that waged within her—stay on the crazy express she'd boarded, and do what felt like the least risky thing in an impossible moment when no one could know what insanity was next, or take the even _less_ sure path—and try to open the portal together.

As they argued in the diner, she imagined Regina in the mines below them, holding off their doom. She wanted to honor her request, not let her death be in vain. The longer they argued, or tried to carve out a new plan, the greater chance Regina—and all of them—would die. She'd wanted to be strong, hold firm, let Regina do the right thing. Alone. Because that was how people like her and Regina did things. Alone. They didn't leave things up to committee. They didn't depend on the whims and agendas of other people. They stayed strong, and they leapt. And sometimes, that was how people like the two of them died.

She thought about the flash of anger when Regina first saw them running up to her, realizing that her wishes had not been followed. And Emma saw the relief, the gratitude for another moment with Henry, and the confusion of their "plan."

She thought of the heartbreaking pain, that dark, haunting, tearful gaze when Regina admitted she couldn't save them by herself—when the most powerful woman in the world admitted she—alone—was not enough.

Mostly, though, Emma thought about the look that passed between them after she'd offered herself in partnership. Maybe that was it then, really. _The_ moment. Even before their joining over the trigger. There was no way they would ever be the same after that moment, no matter what happened next. In the space of two heartbeats, they had reached out with love, and Emma saw in Regina a deep… it was bigger than gratitude. Was it happiness? It was a look she'd never seen on Regina before.

And then? Then, they were one, battling impossible odds, and _that_ moment, too, Emma would never forget.

The surge of raw energy that swamped her first had felt dangerous, terrifying. She willed herself to respond in kind, to tamp down her rising fear and concentrate on absorbing and meeting the mass of pulsating energy with her own. The power of the trigger screamed through her and for a split second she'd thought they'd lost, but at just that moment, something new entered Emma. Regina's energy felt completely different from that of the trigger, and it wrapped up the threat and rage wherever it existed, twisted around it and destroyed it.

One section at a time, again and again, Emma felt the sensation of Regina's pure intention overtake the dark energy. Emma tried to copy her, to use her own energy as Regina did. Soon, she could feel the beginning of the end, knew the trigger was dying, and felt the rush of her own power as it climbed higher.

Thin tendrils of Regina, extra threads split from the battle at the trigger, reached out, and made their way along the paths that Emma had laid open inside herself. The whole of Emma shook, then, and there was no escaping the warm, dynamic energy that began to flood through her. She may have power of her own, but Regina… she was a force. As Emma willingly gave herself over completely to the sensation…

the diamond tinkled to the floor. Useless.

The night grew late, and still, Emma waited. The necklace—as Regina correctly assumed—had thankfully kept Emma feeling balanced and steady. Her knees rolled with the boat as she held the wheel, eyes front.

But dammit, Emma missed _her_. Where _was_ she?

She reached up to fiddle with the charm, wanting to touch it – knowing, _feeling_ it an extension of Regina herself.

"What the hell?" Emma started, her fingers expecting gentle filigree and finding a rough hewn circle of warm brass.

Before she had time to investigate, Rumple oozed up the steps and slithered around the perimeter, saying nothing, though periodically fixing Emma with a smarmy glare. Eventually, he stopped lurking, pulled a dagger from his boot, and held the blade aloft. Emma stood straighter as the dagger caught the glint of the moon. When Rumple moved the blade, infinitesimally, the moonlight seemed to bounce from the blade outward, and the sky lit up.

"Fuck me." Emma said under her breath.

Rumble had just exploded a star.

"Shit." Rumple muttered as he stalked back below. As he descended the steps, he spoke over his shoulder. "Don't look at me, Swan. Everything in every land worked better without _you_ in the mix."

In the end, it was her mother that came to relieve her. Hook was still asleep, David's back was officially out, and Regina?

"She wasn't feeling well. She asked me to come relieve you."

Emma grew instantly worried, "What do you mean she's not feeling well?"

"I'm not sure what it was." Snow guessed, "Seasick, maybe? She went to her cabin and asked to be alone—and for me to come up here to you as soon as I could."

Emma was suddenly suspicious. That knot that formed in her stomach when something was out of whack was poking her for attention. Something about this whole 'trip' was starting to feel… manufactured somehow. Fake. She was feeling played, but she didn't know how. Why. "Where's Gold at?"

Snow thought for a moment, before realizing, "I don't know." She touched Emma gently at her elbow. "Oh, don't look so worried, honey. You've been up here for hours. Go get some rest. Things will look better in the morning."

"What about you?" Emma asked.

"Oh, I'll be fine." Snow nodded, assuring herself as much as hoping to assure Emma.

"I'll be back up in three hours, Mom." Emma smiled at her and went below.

Outside Regina's cabin, Emma stared at the door. She wanted to go in. She wanted to see how Regina was feeling. She wanted to take care of her and touch her head and hold her. She wanted to steady her. Her fingers hovered at the latch. Tapped it with a single finger. Tried to still her heartbeat so that she could hear through the wood into the room, hear any sound, hear Regina's breath.

Emma stepped back and took three steps towards her own room.

Before reversing course, quietly turning the latch, and slipping into Regina's cabin.

The lone candle threw soft, spare light on Regina. She was lying in her cot, her body moving restlessly, knees bending and straightening awkwardly, obviously extremely uncomfortable. Wisps of black hair clung to the sweat on her forehead. Lying on her back, Regina's fingers clenched and pressed at her stomach. Tears slid from under her lashes and her jaw clenched in painful determination.

It shook Emma to her core to see that Regina, in such distress, made not a sound.

"Regina?!" Emma hushed out, hands reaching, long strides eating up the distance between them. In no time, she was sitting at Regina's side, Emma's now shaking hands sweeping dark wet hair from blessedly cool skin. "Regina? Honey?" And Emma felt the body next to her—miraculously—release its tension, relax, stop all fighting. Regina grew still.

Regina's eyelids opened wide and she looked at Emma with a gaze of delight. Delight and gratitude that deepened yet further the rich brown of Regina's gaze. A broad smile lit Regina's face. Every sign of suffering had been wiped from Regina's form. The change was so abrupt, so pronounced in fact, that Emma blinked in surprise and sat in silence, her hands still on Regina's face, shaking now not from concern, but from confusion.

"Emma," Regina husked with a voice raw with thanks. Emma tried to see if, in the dull light of the cabin, had her eyes deceived her? Had Regina been well all along? Was she still ill? What was happening? "There you are." Regina whispered with a kind of reverence.

Emma could only squeak in confusion, shake her head, as she began to move her hands over Regina's body to make sense of it all. Fingers brushed gently over that incomparable face, Regina's neck, her shoulders, arms. Everything felt good, felt right, felt… _good_.

"I…" Emma tried, but shut up when Regina laid a warm finger against her lips.

"Shhh." Regina was smiling. She was still smiling. "Really, Emma. Shhhhh." And she was leaning. Regina was leaning up and taking Emma's face in her hands, and threading her fingers into long locks and drawing Emma in.

There are kisses that make us feel at ease. Others that assure us of our import to another. Some are there out of habit. Some occur in the blink of an eye, not meant to last. Some kisses take our breath away, while others, like this one, bring us to life.

Emma first felt Regina's breath, feather soft, glancing off her lips. She thought she should shut her eyes, but was loath to look away from the shocking beauty before her. When the next thing she felt was Regina's wet tongue dragging over her lower lip, Emma breathed out in a rush and her eyes closed all on their own. Full lips pulled at her top lip and Regina's tongue followed and lightning bolts shot through Emma as she felt herself answering and opening, everywhere, ready to receive everything.

She groaned and her belly spun and pressed when Regina broke their kiss, and brought a damp mouth up the side of her cheek and around to the lobe of her ear and breathed, "There you are."

The rasp of Regina's voice, growling with seduction and something that sounded a lot like being cherished, melted whatever stoic defenses Emma had been naively trying to marshal until she could really understand that Regina was completely well. Her ear was being nibbled and warm breath tickled and made her shiver and shift, moisture flooding between her legs. She felt Regina moving off, and Emma's hands scrambled to support her, not wanting to drop Regina back to the cot in her shock of desire, not wanting her to move a hairsbreadth away.

Regina brought a small hand between them, pushed back on Emma's chest, and those dark eyes, smoky with longing and need met Emma's in the dim, flickering light. "Don't leave me again," she urged.

And Emma understood, and she hoped that her bright eyes spoke the words her mind couldn't articulate, and she closed the distance and kissed Regina. She kissed Regina. Kissed and kissed and kissed her with all the fire they had spent their entire relationship kindling, with all the power that their magic had invoked. Emma pressed her back onto the cot, moved to straddle Regina, to wind their limbs together, felt a knee slip between shaky legs and she sighed, low and dangerous. Lips and tongues met in endless bouts of adoration and Regina's hands touched bare skin at her back, the room was heating and the candlelight was flickering as everything in the room grew heavy with urgency.

Gasping, Regina separated herself but Emma was close behind.

Seeing bare skin, Emma dropped her lips to Regina's chest, and when she heard the guttural moan that fell from the woman below her, the square-jawed, stalwart Sheriff nearly sobbed with happiness. Nothing had ever felt like this. No one. No one else ever would. This was right. Emma was absolutely sure—something she never ever was. But now. This Regina. Yes.

Emma raised herself up, the grin on her face as bright as a star, hoping to connect with Regina, to convey to her this incredible sense of surety and absolute commitment, contentment that was flooding her, and their eyes met and they locked and then…

Regina's eyes traveled down, to where the necklace hung from Emma's neck, the brass circle, lit by the light of that single candle, dangling between their bodies.

Regina's eyes grew round. And horrified. Dark, frightened eyes flashed up to Emma whose smile was falling as she registered this new change in Regina.

Suddenly Regina was hitting her, closed fits beating against Emma's chest, at her shoulders, pushing her, glancing off her face, panicked and desperate and terrified.

"Who are you?! Get off me!" Regina screamed.

Emma hurled herself backwards and landed hard against the cabin door.

"Emma! EMMA!" Regina was calling to her, to Emma, for help, as the Savior herself stood before her, quaking in confusion as the last waves of earnest love and charged desire slid from her helpless form.


End file.
